ALSO BY KYRA DAVIS

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ABOUT KYRA DAVIS

I'm the internationally published author of the Sophie Katz mystery series, and So Much For My Happy Ending. My first Erotic Fiction Trilogy will be released in January 2013.

Aside from that, I'm a single mom; I'm addicted to coffee and True Blood (the show, not the drink). I'm happy with who I am yet I’m always striving to be better; I have more bad hair days than good ones, I love a challenge but I am not fearless, I’m….well…just me.

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Lately I’ve felt like everyone needs a little more of me then I have time to give them. My friends seem to be having assorted crises, my son’s education and schooling needs my immediate attention, the line edits for my book, So Much For My Happy Ending, are due in the next few days and the third Sophie book needs to be done by the end of May. In addition to that there are articles and stories that I have agreed to write for various periodicals and anthologies and the due dates on those are coming up as well. And let’s not forget all the publicity stuff that I need to do for Passion, Betrayal and Killer Highlights. So I’ve had to figure out how to make it all work. Something needed to be sacrificed, but what? If my friends’ crises were of the I-don’t-fit-into-my-old-jeans variety then I could have easily told them that they were on their own. But unfortunately their problems are a little more serious and I can’t imagine not doing everything I can to help them out (the way they helped when things were rough for me). Obviously my son and his education can’t be neglected and the same goes for my career. But I’m homeschooling my son so if I need to spend 6+ hours a day writing what exactly is he supposed to do during that time?

Sleep. That’s what he does because the only thing that I can contentiously sacrifice is my own sleep so I’ve been writing in the middle of the night. Over the last few weeks I’ve been consuming enough coffee and caffeinated tea to keep both Columbia’s and India’s economy afloat.

This probably sounds like I’m whining but I’m not, not exactly. Yes, the writing deadlines stress me out but I’m still so excited about the fact that I can now make a living as a writer that I’m willing to take on the stresses that goes along with the career without a lot of bitterness. As for the stories and articles that I’ve been asked to write…well how cool is it that people are approaching me and offering to pay me for writing anything! It wasn’t that long ago that I was at home praying that some random agents would even bother to read the query letters I sent them.

So I’m not whining. Just rambling. If you’ve e-mailed me lately and I haven’t responded just bear with me. I will write back (after I’ve had another four cups of coffee).

So that’s my incoherent blog. I’m not unhappy or distraught, just very, very busy. Its times like these that make me wish that I had a cocaine addiction.

Starbucks has taken to putting the quotes of various prominent people on their cups. The quote currently gracing my Soy Green Tea Latte (I’m on a health kick) is by Brian Scudamore, the CEO and founder of 1-800-GOT-JUNK? and it reads as follows: “…you are what you can’t let go of.”

I must admit, that’s pretty profound and incredibly accurate. It’s basically the theme of Alina’s last blog. Of course letting go isn’t always the right thing to do, particularly if we’re talking about a defining emotional experience. Letting go of something like that would be the equivalent of letting go of who you are and that’s never a good idea. Sometimes the best we can do, the best we should do, is deal with these experiences. Even if they’re negative we can learn from them and allow them to make us stronger rather than allowing them to destroy us or make us callous.

I suppose it’s because of this philosophy that I’m so anxious to read Natalie Collins book, Wives And Sisters. All the reviews have been fabulous. Even Kirkus loved it and when it comes to book reviews no one is harder to please than Kirkus. It’s a psychological thriller about a woman who has to take on the Mormon Church (within which she was raised) in order to find and expose a sexual predator. Natalie was actually born and raised a Mormon and one need only read her blog to see that she has very strong feelings about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and you don’t have to be Freud to figure out that her experiences with that institution were not positive. But it’s also clear that those were defining experiences. She’s used them to feed her artistic career. They have been the motivation for many of her journalistic pieces. Those experiences are the reason she has become an advocate for millions of women who have been, and continue to be, oppressed by religious fundamentalism.

So while I don’t know Natalie personally I do have an enormous amount of respect for her. She was given some bad "junk" and she’s smart enough to know that she’ll never be able to let it go. Instead she’s used it to make lemonade and if the Washington Times, Midwest Book Review and About.com are right, this beverage has bite.

I've never been one to buy into the myth of a "normal" childhood. I just don't believe there is any such animal. Everyone I know had some kind of issue to mar what others believe is "normal," be it a parent's divorce, an illness, a sudden move to a new town, family money problems, alcoholism, you name it; life isn't easy.

For me, when I was seven years old (exactly one day before my birthday, as a matter of fact), my parents picked up and left Odessa, then-USSR/now-Ukraine. It wasn't until we were physically sitting on our suitcases on the train that they told me we were going to America (they hadn't told me before because they were afraid I'd tell someone else and we'd be arrested, or at least heckled). For the next four months, we travelle from the outskirts of the USSR to Vienna, Austria to Rome, Italy, by bus, by train and by car, with periodic escorts by the armed Jewish Defense League because the PLO had vowed to kill us.

We eventually ended up in San Francisco, CA, where I went to school speaking no English. When I finally did learn English, I became a pint-sized translator for my family, escorting my mother and grandparents on visits to the doctor's office, the social security office, making phone calls for them, etc.

So that's my not "normal" childhood story. But I never had a problem with it. I thought, hey - see above - life isn't easy, no one's childhood is normal, all's well that end's well, aren't I lucky I got through it all without any permanent scars, crippling neurosis or post-traumatic stresses?

Or so I thought, anyway. Until my older son got closer and closer to turning seven.

All of a sudden, as he passed the six and a half mark and proudly started telling everyone he was "six and three quarters" I freaked out.

I didn't realize at first that I was freaking out. But I did notice that my reactions to his behavior were mushrooming out of proportion. Suddenly, I found myself refusing to do anything for him - pour him a cup of juice, help him tie his shoes, toast his bagel, look for a lost library book - insisting, practically screaming, that he do it "himself."

"Don't you understand," I finally heard myself pleading with my husband. "He's almost seven years old and he can't take care of himself. How is he going to survive if he can't take care of himself? I'm not always going to be there to do things for him. I have to teach him to be independent. He's almost seven, damn it!"

Ahem.

I didn't know that was in there.

But, apparently, I - or some shadowy part of me -- believes that, from the age of seven, a child has to be ready to take care of themselves, because you never know what might happen.

Passion, Betrayal And Killer Highlights is in the chain bookstores!!! Today I saw it, proudly displayed on Borders front table. Part of me wants to drive into the middle of downtown, stand on the roof of my car with a megaphone and scream, “Please! Buy my book! My career depends on it!”

Of course I’m not going to do that (unless my publicist tells me I should). I do have one itsy-bitsy little request of all you blog readers. If you do decide to buy one or both of my current books and you end up liking them, do you mind recommending them to…well…every living human being you know? Is that a pathetic thing to ask? Probably, but now that I have a better sense of the fragility of any given author’s career I can’t help but feel a little nervous about my own. Yes, all the early signs point to success but the same could have been said about my last marriage.

But I’m not going to allow my fears to ruin what is truly a momentous event. Sophie Katz is back! I created a story in my head and now that story is in black and white and will be read by people all over North America! I’m proud of myself and I’m humbled by the wonderful reviews and complimentary reader feedback that I’ve earned so far. If that’s not worthy of a celebratory Java Chip Espresso Frappuccino with extra whipped cream I don’t know what is!

The other day, while shopping for some skin care products, this relatively normal looking woman walked up to me with a rather excited smile on her face. “Hi,” she said, “I know this may sound weird but I do psychic readings and as I was walking by I picked up on your great energy. I can sense that some really great things are going to happen for you!”

Normally if a stranger told me that they had “picked up on my great energy” I would have chalked it up to another reason why I should consider moving to a part of the country that was a little less “alternative.” But because of everything that’s been going on in my life I found myself really wanting to believe her. Not enough to pay her for a full reading but enough that I was tempted to follow her around the mall to see if she gave other people the same line or if I was special.

Of course I didn’t actually do that. Instead I went through the day trying to figure out what she saw. Was she going to tell me that my next book is going to become a bestseller? Did she foresee that I was going to make a great choice regarding my son’s education?

Thing is, I don’t really believe in psychics, at least not in the kind that she considered herself to be. But there’s a big part of me that wishes that I did. I want to believe in magic. When I read my horoscope in some fashion magazine I want to trust that “New people who are going to have a lasting impact on (me) will be entering (my) life.” and that “by the 14th I’ll have my priorities worked out.” I would love it if the stars could tell me whether or not things are going to work out the way I want them to.

I’ve actually dated guys who claimed to be able to sense people’s energy…scratch that; I’ve had first dates with guys who claimed to be able to sense people’s energy and I've always managed to cut those dates short. And that’s the flip side of the coin, isn’t it? I long to believe all this but I often find it difficult to tolerate those who do. Years ago I told my son’s preschool teacher that he was having a lot of bad dreams. Her response? “Try putting a Guatemalan dream doll under his pillow. That should work.” I remember studying her decidedly Nordic features and wondering why it was that the people who wanted you to buy into the whole Guatemalan-dream-doll thing were never Guatemalan. Needless to say I didn’t put a dream doll under my son’s pillow. But wouldn’t it be nice if I was wrong and she was right? Put a seriously frightening looking doll under your child’s pillow and he’ll have a peaceful night’s sleep. And the sad thing is that if I had been able to convince my son that was true it probably would have worked, the power of suggestion being what it is. But it’s doubtful that I would have been able to turn him into a believer. He’s a cynic like his mom.

So I guess I’m stuck with a belief in the traditional western God and an awe-inspiring, but somewhat less than magical, material world and neither of them are likely to tell me my future. But I do hope that I’m wrong about psychics. If I am then there’s someone in the world who knows for sure that great things are going to happen for me!

Good news! The paperback version of Sex, Murder And A Double Latte is off to a flying start which is great for two reasons: 1) Any book sales are good book sales. 2) It bodes well for the impending reception of Passion, Betrayal And Killer Highlights. People who love Sophie will hopefully rush out and buy the book featuring her next adventure.

In other news: it is now official, I’m going to the Hamptons. First stop: Cuervo party. I’m not entirely sure what I’m supposed to do at the Cuervo party but I like Cuervo so it’s all good. The second night I’ll be attending a party that will be thrown for me at the hip and prestigious Star Room. Initially I was a little weirded out by the idea of having a party thrown for me in the Hamptons. When I tell my friends who are from Back East that I’ll be touring there they usually nod and agree that it’s a good venue. When I tell my friends who live on this coast that I’m going to the Hamptons they immediately break into a fit of giggles. “The Hamptons?” My friend Anne asked. “Does that place actually exist?” Thing is, I’m from the West Coast and, like my other West Coast friends, my opinions of the Hamptons are entirely based on what I’ve seen on E television. When I hear "Hamptons" visions of Town And Country pop into my head. I visualize a place filled with women who are as polished as their perfectly manicured fingernails and men who do not drive but are driven (in every sense of the word). In other words what I see in my minds eye is old money.

I checked out the Star Room’s website and noted that Eminem will be having an after-party there in July, information that basically just served to solidify my belief that this place is exclusively for the ridiculously wealthy, aka: not me. I called my friend Deb and relayed all this. She listened, paused and then asked, “What is Eminem doing having a party in the Hamptons? It’s not exactly Detroit.”

At which point I thought, “Hey, what is Eminem doing having a party in the Hamptons?”

I mean I’m more “old money” than he is. Anna Nicole Smith is more old money than he is! And it’s not like I’m running around the country singing about trailer park girls goin’ round the outside. So to the Hamptons I will go. If at any point I feel out of place I’ll simply think about Eminem rapping about his bitches and I’ll immediately be able to relax. Thanks Eminem!

Wait, wait, there’s more!!! Amazon has Passion, Betrayal And Killer Highlights too! According to them, if you order in the next 16 hours and 37 minutes you can have yours by the 19th! I might take them up on that even though my publisher already sent me a whole box of my books. It would just be a little token gesture to prove to myself that I'm supportive of my own career. Or maybe it would just be proof of my own insanity. Doesn't matter...Oh this is such a chocolate-happy-dance-moment!

You know, Barnes and Noble released my book early last year too so I shouldn’t have been taken off guard but of course I was. I’m one of those people whom you can throw a surprise birthday party for every year and I’ll still have a heart attack when everyone pops out from behind the couches.

So happy surprise-publishing-day to me! I’m actually giddy which is pretty amazing considering that I’m PMSing big time. That’s okay, now I’ll just say all that ice cream I ate earlier was really a celebration sundae; nothing manic-binge-fest about it.

I’m tempted to wake my son up and tell him the good news because I know he’ll be excited for me but I’m fairly sure that would be considered irresponsible parenting not to mention a little narcissistic. However this is the place where I come to write about my life, my opinions and my petty problems because I’ve convinced myself that hundreds of people who I’ve never met will care. In other words this blog is all about accommodating my runaway narcissism! So it’s totally fitting that I come to you, my truly beloved enablers with the good news first (and I mean first, I haven’t even told my mother yet…sorry ‘bout that mom, I’ll call as soon as I post this).

I’m rambling now so I’ll log off. Maybe I’ll have some celebratory chocolate before I do my happy dance.

I have a friend who used to work for a pharmaceutical company. She once explained to me how that industry works:

It is enormously expensive to develop a new drug. So much so that a pharmaceutical company won’t even try to develop one unless it has the potential of treating a medical problem that inflicts a huge number of people. So if your child is diagnosed with some rare condition that only one in a million people ever get you’re shit out of luck. No one’s ever going to develop a drug to help him.

It’s a bleak picture but it’s one that makes sense. Lately I’ve been feeling like I have that one-in-a-million kid. It’s not that I think my son’s problems are the equivalent of having a terminal illness; in fact I firmly believe that he’ll be just fine in the long run. It’s the now that’s giving me a headache. I was hoping that by getting my son assessed by a woman who specialized in “twice exceptional children” (a very PC term that refers to kids who are gifted with learning disabilities) I would finally hear the words, “yes, I see children like your son all the time. This is what you need to do.” Instead I’m hearing, “Wow, your son’s unique! Getting him in the right school setting is going to be a real challenge!” It’s kind of like traveling to Beverly Hills to get your hair done at Vidal Sassoon only to find out that the hairstylist there is no more or less talented than the barber who works across the street. Of course if you didn’t get your hair done at Vidal at least once you’d spend your entire life thinking that your barber was giving you a second rate haircut, so there’s that.

I should be used to this by now. Ever since my son was born all the experts have been telling me how unique he is. Pediatric nurses, teachers, psychologists, they have all been fascinated by my son’s uniqueness. His recent test scores just back that up. When I enter “gifted children dysgraphia” into my search engine you know what came up? Homeschooling sites all featuring parents’ accounts of how the school system didn’t accommodate their children’s unique (there’s that word again) learning needs and that’s why they decided to educate them at home. And when it comes to my son, giftedness and dysgraphia are just the tip of the iceberg. There do seem to be some school programs made for kids like mine but none of them start before 4th grade. He’s in 1st right now.

So I may have to continue to homeschooling for a while although it is NOT what I want to do. My late father-in-law had asked me how I felt about homeschooling when my child was a baby and I had smiled and said sweetly, “I’d rather walk through the fires of hell.” Guess the jokes on me. I have decided to look into hiring some tutors and getting more childcare. There are some programs that I’d like to enroll my son in and if blog reader Amra Pajlic is right about my readership continuing to grow I might even be able to afford them.

There’s no question about it, this has been a trying week but you know what happened last time life threw me a curve ball? I became a writer. Perhaps this unexpected twist will also lead to great things. I’m actually pretty good at turning difficult situations into opportunities so I don’t see why I shouldn’t be able to do that with this. In other words: stay tuned, there may be some cool surprises ahead.

I did sincerely try to become one. My first two published novels were a pair of Regency Romances, "The Fictitious Marquis" and "Thieves at Heart" (a side story: when I was trying to come up with a title for the latter, I was brainstorming with a friend, explaining that I was looking for a title that would reflect the glitter of stolen jewelry and the romance of con artists, both key themes in the book . She suggested, "The Shiny Thieves." Wonder why we didn't go with that…)

But, anyway, after the Regencies (did I mention that I closed the AVON Regency line? Yup, after it had been around for decades, all it took was two books from me and the whole thing folded), my editor suggested I try a longer historical.

So I tried.

I tried, and I tried, and I tried. I published two contemporary romances,"Annie's Wild Ride" (AVON '98) and "When a Man Loves a Woman" (DELL '00), but the historical thing just wasn't happening.

I suspect I know why. It is because, deep down, I sincerely, nay religiously, believe that nothing romantic could possibly have happened prior to the invention of indoor plumbing.

Think about it. Think of all the historicals out there where the hero and heroine are trapped in a barn/cave during a storm for days, and eventually their passion erupts.

Think about what that medieval barn or damp, Irish cave smells like. Think about what the hero and heroine smell like. And now think about them spending days in there. Between the passions, where do they, uhm, take care of their other natural compulsions?

Think about the archetypal, white heroine getting kidnapped by (noble, I'm sure they were noble) Indians and taken along on their migration. Think of her in her hoop skirt, her petticoats, her girdle and her pantaloons. Think of her getting her period while in that outfit in the middle of nowhere. I know, I know, you're not supposed to be thinking of that. And yet I do.

I also think communicable diseases. I loved "Moulin Rouge," but every time the doomed Satine kissed her poor, aspiring writer lover or the rich Duke who wanted her for himself, all I could think was, "The girl has consumption!!! That's tuberculosis. This isn't romantic, this is contagious!!!"

Well I just got back from LA where I took my son to see the neuropsychologist a UCLA again. It was not a good visit. That’s wrong…it wasn’t a bad visit it was just an overwhelming visit. I said on an earlier blog post that my son took two intelligence tests, the Stanford Binnet and a test referred to as “The Gold Standard.” I also said that he did better on the Gold Standard than he did on the Stanford. That was my misinterpretation of the doctor’s comments. Until yesterday the doctor had only given me general information about the results of the testing, pointing out that kid’s test performances can vary greatly due to mood, health and the like which is why she insists on doing lots of tests over a long period of time before giving any kind of evaluation. We’ll be testing some more next month but now she feels comfortable enough to go over some results with me.

There is no question about the fact that she was enthusiastic and excited after my son took the Gold Standard (a day after he had taken the Stanford). But it was the kind of excitement that doctors exhibit when they’ve just been told that they get to operate on a never before seen brain tumor. I’m exaggerating a little here but you get my point, my son is “interesting.” He did exceptionally well on the Stanford Binnet. According to his test result he should be applying to NASA any day now. But the Gold Standard told a very different story. He did fairly well in ONE area of the Gold Standard and exceptionally poorly in every other area. Testers expect to see a slight difference in the results of these two tests but not anything this dramatic. Basically it confirms my concerns, he is an incredibly gifted child with a severe learning disability. On the Gold Standard test they say that a difference of 15 points between two areas of testing is significant. My son has differences of 80 points. Academically he’s testing at average, slightly above average, and occasionally below average levels. The problem she told me (rather emphatically) is not dyslexia. However he does have some major problems with visual spatial stuff. Here’s an example of the problem. Given the lines below see if you can see if the first symbol is repeated in the line that it’s in:

! ) # ^ & !

? # @ ! * >

In the first line the exclamation mark is repeated, in the second line the question mark is not. Given a page of these it took my son an hour to do two problems. So as she pointed out, an accelerated academic program is not what he needs. On the other hand his intelligence and his ability to conceptualize is so high that he is destine to become extremely bored (and thus disruptive) in any class that is reading books about Dick and Jane or first grade level social studies. He’s not the most focused child in the world, she pointed out (as if I didn’t know this) and he needs to have a teacher who is capable of keeping him on task. That may mean that he gets to stand up at his desk instead of sitting because he does have a lot of energy but she dismissed this as a normal thing for gifted children, especially boys. She agreed with previous evaluators that he has some characteristics that are commonly found in children with Aspergers (a high functioning level of autism) but she doesn’t think he actually has Aspergers. Nonetheless he definitely needs a little help socially. She thinks that I should really work with him on typing and should even allow him to have a laptop in the classroom. “Writing legibly is not always the main point of an educational lesson. If you want him to get whatever’s being taught you have to be sure that he’s not so stressed out about how his letters look that he won’t be able to concentrate on anything else.”

She then pulled out a binder full of notes that she’d taken down during his session and said, “He told me and I quote, sometimes I obsess about words and it’s hard to get them down on a piece of paper. I have a lot of annoying problems.”

I swear, just writing that makes me want to cry. Of course there are programs, schools and specialists that can help him with his issues. Just none where I live. What I’m trying to say is that I think I’m going to have to move. Maybe I’ll find something as close as Silicon Valley. I’ve never really wanted to live in ANY kind of valley but there are worse fates. But I may find that the best programs for my son are a little farther away than that. I know they have lots of stuff in LA (I have never wanted to live in LA either). Of course there are places outside of California that would be good for my son too. It’s just that the Bay Area is my home and the idea of leaving is…hard. I did fall in love with Seattle when I was touring and their schools do have a great reputation, plus housing is cheaper in WA and they don’t have any State income tax and their health care is da bomb. So maybe…

I don’t know, as I said before I’m overwhelmed. I love my son so much, furthermore I like him. I like who he is as a person but I’ve got to say, it’s hard to be his mother sometimes. But then again it’s hard to be anyone’s mother (just ask my mom).

I could go on an on about this but I won’t. Hopefully Passion, Betrayal And Killer Highlights will sell really well and lead to a book contract that will make all of this a less financially daunting if nothing else (hidden subtext: buy my books, buy my books).

Life’s an interesting journey, n’est pas?

Tomorrow Alina Adams will be blogging here and (per my request) will be keeping it light because I seriously need a double shot of escapism.

Many readers have written to tell me that although they don’t usually like mysteries they really enjoyed Sex, Murder And A Double Latte. I consider this to be a huge compliment, the kind which I have rarely been able to pay to another author. That’s not to say that I didn’t absolutely LOVE the manner in which Susan Isaacs combined two genres when she wrote Shinning Through but the genre’s she combined (suspense and women’s fiction) are two of my favorites so I can’t say “I normally don’t like…” because I normally do like. In fact my taste in literature is so varied that it’s hard to find a genre to which I’m usually averse. However it is true that I’m not overly fond of Fantasy. There are a few exceptions to this rule: I loved Terry Pratchett’s YA novels and the first two Vampire books in Rice’s Vampire Chronicles, but that’s really it. I don’t have a thing for Harry Potter, Laurell K. Hamilton’s books don’t speak to me and I couldn’t get through Wicked despite several attempts. By the way, all these books/authors are very good. I didn’t like the novels because of my individual tastes. I don’t like to watch golf either but that doesn’t make Tiger Woods a lesser athlete.

So it with great pleasure that I can now honestly say “I don’t normally like fantasies but I loved…

E. Lockhart’s Fly On the Wall. It’s a young adult novel about a girl going to a magnet high school for the arts in Manhattan (think Fame). While trying to cope with her parents sudden plans to divorce and her unrequited crush on a cute but apparently inaccessible guy not to mention her own normal fears of being too normal she makes an idle wish. She wishes she could be a fly on the wall of the boy’s locker-room. And low and behold, her wish comes true.

If you’re like me the premise doesn’t scream “Read me, read me, read me!” But E. Lockhart is one of the GCC gals so I figured, what the hell, I’ll give it a go. For the record, I didn’t have to. In order to be part of the GCC all I have to do is give you the name of her current book and her web address. It’s up to me whether or not I want to comment on its merits or lack there of. Nonetheless I did read it and you know what?

I liked it! Mikey...er...Kyra liked it!

The reason I enjoyed it so much is simple, it was fun. The protagonist was charmingly and realistically flawed, appealing and very funny. Lockhart has a great voice and her story was just flat out entertaining. It’s a quick read and one that kept me smiling from page 1 to page 182 (that would be the last page. Like I said, it’s a quick read). Anyways I give it two thumbs up. Check out her book next time you’re at a bookstore and CHECK OUT HER WEBSITE!!! Hands down Lockhart has the most entertaining author website I’ve ever come across, complete with quizzes, polls, audio-book samples and a great blog. You could occupy yourself for hours over there.

This was posted on Post Secret; a website to which people send anonymous postcards confessing to the secrets they don’t want anyone else to know. It’s actually a great site. Some of the postcards are heartfelt and raw: mother’s confessing to missing the life they had before children and other’s admitting that they miss the God they believed in before the death of a son. Then there are postcards like this:

So there you have it, I am officially someone’s dirty little secret! Isn’t that fantastic! Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s great that so many of you proudly walk around your hometowns with my book tucked under your arm, in fact marketing studies suggest that people are more likely to buy a book after they’ve seen someone else reading it in a public place so by all means, take Sophie to Starbucks with you. But the idea that there are people who are embarrassed to read my books but find the temptation to buy them too powerful to resist…well that’s a coo and a half, isn’t it? Think about it, I’m worth risking a reputation for! I’m like the literary equivalent of Monica Lewinsky! Well actually I’d like to think of myself as a cuter smarter version of Monica (sorry Mon, but you just didn’t make a great impression on me) but you get my point.

Plus this postcard actually gave me an idea for some publicity material I may or may not pay someone to create for me. In the meantime I’m going to start checking out Post Secret regularly and I certainly encourage all of you to do the same. It’ll make you think, laugh and once in a blue moon it may even boost your ego.

Oh, and because I firmly believe in giving credit where credit is due, I want to thank Nana for bringing this to my attention. You made my day, chica!

Whenever I guest-blog, I like to mention that fact right on top. Primarily because I know I personally hate going to a blog I visit regularly, start reading, then halfway through the blog entry go, "Hmmm, So and So doesn't sound like him/herself," only to get to the bottom and see that he/she had been temporarily body-snatched by a guest-blogger. It feels a little bait-and-switchy. So. For those like me who just hate that - I AM NOT KYRA.

I am Alina Adams, author of The Figure Skating Mysteries from Berkley Prime Crime, and Kyra's fellow Mom of Mystery.

Kyra and I are trying a little experiment where I'm going to guest-blog on a vaguely regular basis, hopefully to the benefit and joy of all. Since this is a writing blog, I thought I'd start with a post on writing -- so as not to make too jarring of a transition. But, since I am, well... me (you don't know what that means yet, but, believe me, if this guest-blogging stint continues, you will... boy, will you...), I am going to start with an apropos to nothing blog about how publishing a book is like having kids. (Well, it's apropos to nothing to you, to me, it's apropos to a two year old sitting on my lap as I try to type and a six year old screaming from the next room, "How do you spell APOLOGIZE?... What do you mean why do I need to know? No reason.")

Publishing is like having kids in that, before you have one, you think it's a really great idea. You've heard everybody else's horror stories about how hard it could be, but you figure you're smart, competent and well, let's be honest, just a tiny bit superior to everyone around you. So you expect to be the exception.

Publishing a book is like having kids in that the initial conception is usually a pretty good time for the participants, and also seems like a truly original and brilliant idea.

And then the nausea comes. That would be the actual writing part. Especially the part where you have a killer opening, a bang-up ending, and no idea how to get from one to the other in 300 pages. If that doesn't make you throw up at least once, you must be one of those people not genetically programmed for it.

After an indeterminate time (sorry, I'm a pretty fast writer and, apparently, a speedy gestater as well; both my kids were born before their due dates), there comes the horrifically, unimaginably painful part known as submitting the book and having it rejected. Repeatedly. In waves that get more and more intense with each occurrence and no guarantee of how many there will ultimately be before it ends.

Then come the sleepless nights, i.e. the time period between an editor accepting your book and the contract arriving, thus proving that this is neither a practical joke by your friend with a desktop publishing program nor is it a stress-induced delusion on your part.

Finally, you have your cute little baby safe in your arms. It's the prettiest thing you've ever seen and you can't fight the urge to stop even strangers in the street so that they might coo over it. But then... developmental problems. You can't help noticing -- though you know it's wrong to compare books; everyone develops at their own pace -- that other people's darlings seem to be toddling a little higher up the best-seller list, speaking a little better on the talk shows, and bringing home several more gold stars of excellence from Publisher's Weekly.

With every review, you find yourself wanting to clarify for the well-meaning critic that they simply misunderstood what your angel was trying to accomplish. What they saw as a weakness is actually a strength. Wait, let me explain it to you!

Eventually, however, the brain is such that it allows you to forget the pain. Especially when that adorable royalty check arrives months (who am I kidding? years) after the initial labor and delivery. You look at that cute little payout which, now that the hard part is over, it feels like you earned by doing nothing, and, all of a sudden, you're ready to try for another one!

Ah well, you know it's almost Passover and so it's probably appropriate that the current sweetness of my life be balanced out with a little horseradish. For all you Gentile readers, you'll just have to trust me when I say that we Jews are distrustful of absolute bliss.

Anyway I wanted to give you a heads up. Tomorrow (hopefully) I'll be publishing a blog written by my friend a fellow author Alina Adams. She is the woman who I publish the Moms Of Mystery Newsletter with. She and I have different approaches to life and since I only blog about three times a week (yeah, I know...but I'm trying to blog that much) I thought it would be nice to treat you to a fresh perspective every once in a while. So assuming my computer problems don't screw everything up you'll get to read her piece on Friday.

You know how your internet homepage always has the headlines of a few news articles posted for your viewing pleasure? Well when I logged on this afternoon I was greeting with the following “news story”: Jesus May Have Walked On Ice: Jesus walked on water, according to the Bible, but a Florida State University professor says he may have actually walked on a hard-to-see patch of ice.

So my question is this: is the sole purpose of this article to piss off religious Christians and make non-believers feel superior or am I missing something? Seriously, this in not headline news. Arguing about whether or not Jesus walked on water is like arguing about Mary’s Immaculate Conception: believers will always say that Jesus was the result of a Virgin birth and non-Christians will always disagree, so why even bother discussing it?

Since I’m not all that interested in exercises in futility I’ll talk about something else: I got the finished books of Passion, Betrayal And Killer Highlights yesterday!!! The UPS guy apparently didn’t feel like ringing the doorbell so I didn’t even know they were on my front porch until my friend Annie came over for a visit. I opened the door and there she was standing next to three brown boxes with my name on it. “It’s not you’re birthday, is it?” she asked.

“Nope,” I answered, “but it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.”

And the early reviews are still coming in and they’re all great! Plus Passion Betrayal And Killer Highlights will be receiving some wonderful coverage this summer from some of my favorite magazines so I’m happy dancing all over the place.

Of course high profile reviews are only capable of giving me an initial boost; it’s the reader’s opinions that will actually determine the success or failure of my book. Will I meet all of your expectations? Will I make you laugh out loud? Will it be good enough to recommend to friends and bookclubs and inspire positive Amazon reviews? I don’t know the answer to these questions yet but I’m hopeful and there’s nothing more exhilarating than hope.

I’m going to make this quick since I just returned from a dinner party and the effects of the two glasses of Merlot haven’t completely warn off yet. Two glasses (albeit large ones) of wine and ½ a glass of champagne in a five hour period and I’m still tipsy, am I a lightweight or what?

Anyway, I wanted to let all you audio-book fans know that I have some good news for you! Not only can you download Sex, Murder And A Double Latte onto your IPod or what-have-you, but come May 1st you’ll be able to download Passion, Betrayal and Killer Highlights as well! It is very cool to have my book be released in not one, but two formats! And of course Sex, Murder And A Double Latte is selling in three since it was released in paperback a few days ago. It seems that Sophie is slowly but surely making her mark on every form of media available to her! That is what we Jews are known for after all (that’s a joke so save your hate mail for Farrakhan).

I also want to invite all of you to join me and many others in a month long discussion hosted by eHarlequin’s Audible Books reading group. The book pick for April is Sex, Murder And A Double Latte and then on May 1st a new discussion will begin when we all start reading (or listening to, depending on your preference) Passion, Betrayal And Killer Highlights. Well okay, I won’t be reading either book since I’m already pretty familiar with them, but I will be weighing in on the chats and comments. I hope you will too!